


Heart-shaped Box

by herdivineshadow



Category: Robin Hood (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-20
Updated: 2007-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herdivineshadow/pseuds/herdivineshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title borrowed, in the style of the series, from the song by Nirvana. Vaguely inspired by the whole courtly love thing. Very, very vaguely.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Heart-shaped Box

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed, in the style of the series, from the song by Nirvana. Vaguely inspired by the whole courtly love thing. Very, very vaguely.

She watches him, hidden in shadows outside the window of what was once Robin's room, unable to enter to replace the strongbox she had stolen from him only a few nights before.

He sits, hunched over the table; one strong hand tightly wound in dark hair, the other furiously scribbling across the page in front of him.

The spell he casts over her is only broken when he stops, sighs, rests his head in both hands for a moment and then pushes his chair back, gazing sightlessly at the window. Marian's breath stills, but by some providence he has not seen her. It is bad enough that he knows her secret, but for him to find that she knows his?

  
She does not know if he could survive that.

  
He rises, unexpectedly, and moves to the bed - kneeling beside it and reaching under for what was no longer there. Reaching, finding nothing. Guy lay down on the floor, turning his head to better see underneath the bed - still finding nothing, and then scrambled to his feet, mind-racing with thoughts of who could have taken it.

His panic gives her time to silently climb into the room and perch on the window-sill, the object of his frantic search securely held on her lap.

"Looking for something?"

He spins, breathless, solemn and unsurprised that she has seemingly scaled the house to torment him. She is the Nightwatchman after all, who knows what other secrets she holds.

His eyes light on the secrets she holds.

"Oh this? I thought I would drop in the other day, for old times sake. Only you weren't here to catch me in the act."

"Give it back."

His voice is low and threatening, but his eyes give away fear and hurt and a slight, wet glisten of sorrow. She ignores it.

"I'm sure you'll know how disappointed I was to find that your strongbox had found another use. I had rather expected to be redistributing your wealth to the poor again."

"Marian. I.." His tone takes on a rare note of pleading.

"I thought I would ransom it back to you." She blurts suddenly and then smiles enjoying his confusion.

"Ransom?" Guy's face contorts in disbelief. "Marian, do you know what you hold there?"

Brightly, Marian answered. "Oh yes. I did examine the papers quite thoroughly."

"Then you would ransom my heart?" She can tell that he hadn't thought that she would sink this low, strike this far below the belt.

His honesty is unexpected and stings. Her response is quieter, chastened.

"Isn't that the way it usually works?"

  
He stands, silently letting the truth of her statement wash over him, and then his shoulders drop in resignation.

"What do you want?" His question gives away his weariness. He's too tired to fight her any more as he returns to slump in his chair. Too tired to fight for her.

  
She had expected more resistance, more of a fight. A scuffle. Shoving and pushing and rage and anger. Tearing and kicking. Not this.

"Two things." She rose from her station at the window and moved to sit upon the desk in front of him. "I want you to read me what you've just written."

She motioned to the discarded paper, filled with his sloping handwriting.

He swallows. It would have been easier to raid the Sheriff's treasury and furnish her with its contents single-handedly, but the alternative of the contents of the strongbox being given into the wrong hands?

Unthinkable.

It is difficult for him, she can see. His words are hesitant. He swallows and licks his lips - mouth and throat inexplicably dry. Still, she is captivated by his quiet voice, the movement of his lips, the way he cannot look at her, his long eyelashes, the hair that has fallen across his face and the slight tremble the paper in his hand betrays.

For a few moments, the world consists of just him and her and his voice, as she strained to catch every syllable.

He finishes, embarrassed, unable to raise his eyes to her face. Pained. Defeated. "What else?"

It is her turn to hesitate, as she places the box carefully on the table beside her. Regarding him for a moment, awaiting her demand.

"Just this," she replied; leaning forward and, gently cupping his face with her hands, stealing a tender kiss.


End file.
